


Give in to the Chase

by chibimono



Series: Little thing of fics [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Gabriel Reyes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Non-Explicit Sex, Omega Jack Morrison, Scenting, chase kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-16 03:47:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16077731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibimono/pseuds/chibimono
Summary: Gabe can catch the scent of Jack in heat from half way across the base. The hunt is on.





	Give in to the Chase

**Author's Note:**

> Ohappyfair is running a [Reaper76 A/B/O week](https://mobile.twitter.com/ohappyfair/status/1032360627854028800?s=21) right now. This was posted a few months ago as a thread fic on twitter, but I’m posting it here in honor of the A/B/O week and Sunday’s theme, scenting. :) Please enjoy.

Gabe is going over results of last week’s team training exercises when he hesitates. He’s not sure if he’s catching a whiff off his collar, from Jack marking his shirt this morning like the tease he is. He clears his throat and goes back to discussing things with Jesse and Genji.

It hits him again a minute later, stronger. He breathes in deep and holds it in his lungs. Earthy and lightly sweet, like damp forest undergrowth and cornflowers. He lets his breath out slowly, opening his eyes he didn’t know he closed. He checks the date on his watch and grins; Jack’s heat started.

He knows better than to avoid it. Once he catches the scent, it crawls under his skin and lingers like an itch that needs scratching. A constant, jerking tug that knows no end, until he’s buried and sated in Jack’s welcoming warmth.

He puts down his tablet and Genji blinks. “We’re done already?” the cyborg asks.

Jesse just groans. “I’m guessin’ the Strike Commander just hit peak season, if that dopey look is anything to go by.”

“We’ll finish up in a few days,” Gabe says absently as he heads for the door, tilting his head to scent the air.

“It’s better than dealing with your grumpy, feral ass now!” Jesse calls, but Gabe barely pays attention, already out into the hall.

He starts to the left, toward the gym, but Jack’s scent fades within a few steps, so he ducks right. He moves swiftly, not quite a jog, but not far off. He checks a conference room or two along the way, poking his head in, but Jack’s scent isn’t there. He slips into the auditorium and, yes, it’s pungent here. Jack must’ve been working at setting up an assembly of some kind, maybe something for the new recruits. Unfortunately, Jack is not here. 

He follows the specter of Jack through the crowded halls just outside the commissary and mess hall. The scent lingers here and there, like clouds of perfume, heavenly and heady. He searches for blond hair and blue eyes, a smug smile and five o’clock shadow. There’s a growing disappointment when he doesn’t see Jack anywhere. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind not being dominated by his Alpha instincts, Gabe realizes why Jack was here. His mate is stocking up. 

The grin is back and he does run this time, dodging the people around him as he makes his way to the housing quarters. He’s halfway to their apartment when Jack’s scent goes stale. Gabe sniffs and, no, Jack hasn’t been this way since this morning. 

He taps his watch. “Athena, where’s Jack?”

“The Strike Commander has asked he not be disturbed in order to complete his work for the day.”

“Oh, did he?” 

The hunt is on. He growls and backtracks, returning to the crowded halls. Tilting his head, he scents the air. Jack lingers everywhere, but it’s fading, dispersing into smells of the others around him. Where...? 

Like a plume of feathers tickling at his nose, he catches him again. Gabe perks up and inhales deeply, his legs following the trail of their own volition. He’s led back down to the training rooms and through the gym. Gabe thinks of how he was just here, wondering it Jack was trying to tease him while he worked. He slips into the locker room, expecting to find broad shoulders to sneak up on and mark. 

The shoulders he finds are broader than he expects, and Reinhardt chuckles at him. “I was wondering why the Strike Commander was being so affectionate today. I think understand now.”

His devious mate sent a decoy to put him on a wild goose chase. Gabe is both extremely proud and annoyingly frustrated by his brilliance. It makes the need to find Jack that much more pressing, so Gabe can rain his praises down on his wily mate while setting the punishing pace he deserves (and is no doubt aiming for).

“Where is he, Lieutenant?”

The big omega laughs darkly. “The game is afoot, Commander. You know it will take you longer than necessary to break me for the information you need.”

“You’re lucky for that, or I’d make sure I was extra thorough,” Gabe smirks as he heads out.

As leader of Overwatch, Jack could be anywhere on this base. There were so many places that Gabe could look and not find him. The possibilities are endless. He starts at the most likely place and from there he’ll work his way around the base. Jack’s office is saturated with his scent, but Jack is nowhere to be found. Ana’s offices is also empty.

He heads to the medical wing, knowing Jack would need clearance for the next few days off. Since Gabe was his official mate, he’d be released on the clearance as well. Athena hasn’t given him the alert of time off, so Gabe was pretty sure Jack hadn’t been in yet and Gabe could catch him there. Jack’s scent is thick here as it lingers in the hall, winding through the medical stations. The smell is fresh, no more than minutes past. Angela is smiling at him as he turns a corner, but there’s no Jack to be seen.

“You seem to have just missed him, Commander,” she says playfully, another one in on Jack’s game.

Just that time, Athena alerts his watch. His clearance for three days off has been approved, beginning now.

Now. He’s free now, and still no Jack, no mate in the beginnings of his heat. Still no Jack beckoning him close and pulling him in to kiss and asking for his knot.

He growls as he moves past her, hearing her giggle and wish him luck on the chase. He doesn’t need luck, not now that he’s within minutes of Jack. With the fresh trail to follow, he’s sure he’s right behind Jack. He weaves through the people in the halls, takes a third trip that day to the training rooms, only to turn and once again end up near the assembly hall. He thinks he’s got Jack cornered this time, can hear him speaking from the podium. Gabe will wait behind the curtains, pounce as he’s walking off off the stage. 

As Gabe peeks between the curtains to get a eye on his prize, he curses and laughs wryly. It’s a holovid! Of course it is; as if Jack would want to stand in front of an audience as a fever consumed him and the cravings for his mate claimed him. He could do it, has done it before, but why bother when he didn’t have to? 

That means Jack is still on the move, though, and Gabe needs to keep moving if he wants to catch him. He bursts out the backstage doors and pauses just a moment to check which way his mate went, then is off at a sprint. Getting tricked in the assembly hall was a minor setback. Jack’s scent is still fresh, and as he eats up the distance between them with long strides, Gabe’s getting close enough to taste him. He licks his lips, almost expecting the musky flavor of slick there. He can’t wait to have his mate again. Growling, he picks up his pace, putting his enhancements to work.

He skids to a halt at T-intersection, and before he can check the scent on the breeze, he catches the end of telltale blue coattails disappearing around the corner to his right. Gabe follows after, preparing to pounce—only to stop just shy of colliding with Ana, who’s waving the Strike Commander’s coat like a matador.

She laughs as Gabe curses and scrambles to find his bearings. Jack must’ve just took the jacket off, the scent of him was so strong right there and clouding Gabe’s efforts to pick up anything else. He’s half hard already, his instincts telling him Jack should be right here and ready for him. The disconnect between reality and his biology were frustratingly screwing with his brain.

Luckily, Gabe hears boots taking off at a run. He kicks himself into gear and backtracks around the corner, just in time to see Jack, sans coat, take the path to the left of the T-intersection. With Jack at a full-out run, Gabe could never catch him, but if he can’t see or hear him, Gabe can at least smell him, so there’s no fear of losing track of him now.

Not that losing him mattered with Jack making a beeline for the residential hall. They’re both laughing, breathless with excitement, anticipation. Gabe feels like a teenager again, the playfulness and the rush from the chase reminding him why he loves his mate so much. They know what their other half needs and it’s never a dull moment. Staff are dodging out of their way as they dart through the halls, the newer agents bewildered while the older agents catcall and cheer them on. If the UN knew of their childish behavior, they’d probably get a lecture about professionalism, but they’re on their own time now. For the next three days, they are Gabe and Jack, mates giving into their basest instincts and deepest cravings. Gabe doesn’t really give a damn about professionalism right now.

Jack makes it to their apartment first, stumbling over the small crate of supplies he ordered at the commissary. There’s just enough distance between them that Jack barely has time to shove the crate through the door with his foot before Gabe crashes into him from behind. They barely clear the crate as their momentum carries them across the threshold and against the wall inside the entryway hall.

Gabe wraps his arms around his mate and tucks his face between his neck and jaw, panting with excitement and exertion and making sure every inhale is all Jack. He grinds his hips into Jack’s perfect ass, letting him know exactly what Jack’s done to him in the past few hours. The heartfelt groan in reply is music to Gabe’s ears.

“You are a little shit, Jack Morrison,” Gabe growls as he nips at his ear and nuzzles the short hairs at his nape.

Jack laughs, deep, raspy, and sultry as he laces his fingers with Gabe’s hand at his stomach and guides it down, down. “How else am I going to get you as riled up as I am?” he asks as he grinds back. 

In a flurry of kissing and removing clothes, they manage to make it through the apartment to their bed. Prep shouldn’t take long, Jack’s body primed for sex with his heat, but Gabe always insists on foreplay, if only to get his fill of Jack’s nectar-like slick. When Gabe finally slides home inside Jack, he sets a relentless pace as payback for the hunt, pleased by the keening and begging for more by his mate.

Gabe knots and they come together, their bodies synced through years of teamwork and mating. They ease onto their sides to ride out being tied together, and Gabe curls around Jack, protective, possessive.

“Gotcha,” he sighs, buried deep and satisfied, for now. The reeling draw calming, the itch scratched.

Hum pleased, Jack settles in his embrace. “You always got me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I’m on twitter @chibimonoakuno and  
> on tumblr @littlethingofevil and @badsleeptwins (with my buddy AsheRhyder)


End file.
